The Lost Lover

A vampire with no recollection of who she was before, except the black eyes of the werewolf who had brought her to be changed.

 

I barely remember being human. It was so long ago, and the pain of the transformation washes away all but the strongest memories.

            My very blood was boiling in my veins. I couldn’t breath, couldn’t even think. It spread through my body turning my muscles to water and my bones to rubber. I couldn’t stand it.

            Even now I could remember the change.

            But what I remember most was the black eyes of the man who had watched over me. I don’t remember his name, or even much of his face, but I instinctively know that he had brought me to the man who changed me.

            Changed me into a vampire after I had nearly died when a building collapsed around me. I remembered that pain too, though it was dull in comparison to others I’d felt.

            When I had awoken, the man with the black eyes was gone. My senses heightened, I unconsciously tried to catch his scent. Tears had stung my eyes, the scent so repulsive my nose had burned. Soon after I learned just what that scent was.

            Werewolf.

            I’d been utterly shocked. It turns out that mankind’s assumption about the war between vampires and werewolves was incredibly close. It was a dog vs. cat thing that we didn’t really understand; it was unconscious, without thought.

            So a werewolf bringing a damaged human to be changed into a vampire was completely unheard of.

            And I wanted to know why he had done it.

            I was in New York City when I saw him.

He was a tall man, a good foot taller than me, with golden tan skin and curly black hair, cut to his jaw. He wore loose fitting jeans and a dark blue muscle tee. But I knew it was he when I looked into his eyes. They were all black, twin pools of liquid onyx that recognized me instantly.

He bolted into the crowd.

I ran after him as fast as I could without drawing attention to myself being more than human. My long blonde hair whipped into my face, and I spit out the strands that fell into my mouth.

The chase led me into a near deserted part of town. It was the kind of place I wouldn’t have ever entered if I weren’t immortal.

He was waiting for me when I stopped, eyes wide with shock.

“Who are you?” My question seemed to take away his shock. His expression turned murderous, and I took a small step back.

“You don’t remember me?” He thundered. A vein throbbed in his neck.

“I only remember your eyes. You took me to the vampire to be changed, didn’t you?” I was proud when my voice came out steady.

His angry expression shattered. “You were so hurt. And it was my entire fault. I had to fix it. It was selfish of me. I couldn’t have you die. I needed you to be alive, even if I never saw you again.”

I was still lost. “What were you to me?” I blurted out.

And with that, he lunged.

I was prepared to fight, to run. I was completely unprepared for the kiss.

His lips pressed forcefully against mine, conveying a hunger and desperation I had never felt before. The kiss was filled with familiarity, as if we had done this a hundred times before.

And I now knew what he had been to me.

I knew why he had taken me to the vampire.

Why he had broken the rules.

Why he had saved me.

He loved me.

And I loved him.